


The Last American

by Redshirt451



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, Suicide, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 05:41:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14490039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redshirt451/pseuds/Redshirt451
Summary: The United States of America attempts to take on the most infamous villains in the Doctor Who Universe.





	The Last American

Hank struggled to see the ship’s dashboard through his sleep clouded eyes. The radar’s ping had woken him from his much needed rest. It only detected one object in his ship’s vicinity, but it needed to be checked nonetheless. Giving off a deep yawn he picked up the radio’s receiver and let out a hailing signal. “This is Captain Hank Powers of the USS Anzio. Please identify, over.” He sank back in the chair and waited. The only reply he received came in the form of a piece of the USS Ben Franklin’s hull that drifted by his starboard window, revealing itself to be the source of the ping. Hank let out a quiet sigh of frustration. Without fuel his shuttle was just as useless as that piece of junk. He would have been happy if it had been an enemy ship there to finish him off, at least then his death would have been quick. Now it looked like he would have to wait to join his crew.  
Groaning, Hank got up to check the rest of the ship. If he was going to die, it wasn’t going to be from something he didn’t know about. He looked over the ship’s sensor array first, walking past the gaping hole in the hallway. A stray blast had blown it in the side of the ship, sucking out the ship’s navigator droid before the air shield had sealed it off. Poor A3-D3 had spent its last moments pushing the ship’s medic into the medbay before being lost to the void. The droid wasn’t supposed to have emotions, but its sacrifice had thrown that into doubt for Hank. Maybe the Society for Robot Liberation had a point. Not that it mattered much for anyone now.  
Sighing, Hank finished checking the sensor array and moved on. Nothing had moved into the ship’s range. Rescue was out of the question now. Any ships that might have survived had jumped into light speed long ago, with their enemies in hot pursuit. The only things left around them were the battered husks and pieces of debris that had once been the best and brightest of the United States military.  
When he closed his eyes, he could still see those ships on the first day of the campaign. Shined and scrubbed to perfection, their crews arrayed in dress uniform, being sent off by Admiral Maddox himself. The old war horse had insisted on addressing the men personally, rather than by hologram, on the bridge of the USS New Washington. The huge carrier had made Hank’s own destroyer look pitiful by comparison. The Admiral had dwarfed both when he began speaking. “Soldiers, sailors and spacemen of the American Expeditionary Force. The eyes of the universe are upon you. The hopes and prayers of liberty loving beings everywhere march with you. The enemy you are facing has no regard for the freedoms we hold dear. They have dedicated their existence to killing and enslaving those they deem inferior to them. Up until now they have been successful. But now they face the United States of America. And they will not succeed this time….”  
Hank didn’t remember the details of the rest of the speech. Something about how they would destroy the enemy and bring liberty to the universe. He had been too distracted by a conversation behind him, between two civilians, an older graying man and a cute brunette, who had somehow managed to get onto the bridge. They thought no one else could hear their whispering, but Hank had always had superior hearing so he could hear every word. “They’re as arrogant in the future as they are now, I’ll give them that” giggled the brunette, her English accent audible through the hushed tones. “That they are. And it will unfortunately be their undoing” the older man replied, his accent was unmistakably Scottish, “This fleet will be wiped out within the next twenty-four hours. The entire nation within the next forty-eight.”  
Hank hadn’t known what to make of the intruders morbid discussion before. When the first enemy blast had torn New Washington in half, spilling its ships and crew into the cold depths of space, he had realized it was a depressingly accurate prophecy. The rest of the fleet had followed the flagship soon after, falling to pieces in the face of an unstoppable foe. No, foe didn’t do those things justice. Force was the better term. A force of nature that had swept away the best and brightest America had to offer and was finishing off the rest before the holonet had stopped working. Hank hadn’t really thought about them though, not when the people he worked alongside were being wiped out left and right.  
The medic A3-D3 had sacrificed itself for was disintegrated along with the rest of the medbay and anything else that was sucked out before the blast doors sealed. The engineer was scalded beyond recognition when the engine’s exhaust system backfired. The navigator had her head blown off by a passing shell, as she was trying to plot a course out of the hell they were in. As for the first officer, Hank tried not to think about Maria. He had never been a romantic man, always too busy with his career to think about the opposite sex. It had caught him off guard when she pulled him close while they were alone one day and kissed him for what had seemed like hours. It had been against regulations, but when you’re a good Captain your crew tends to keep their mouths shut about minor infractions. He still had a ring in his pocket, still waiting in its case for a wonderful moment that would never come. He took it slowly out of his pocket and looked at it. The pure blue sapphire was still just as beautiful as when he had bought it off a street vendor in New New York while on leave. He picked it out of its box and let it out through the airlock, watching as it drifted off into space. Maybe it would find her. It didn’t really matter anymore.  
The rest of the crew went in various ways, all unpleasant. Hank tried to shake off the memories as he sat back in his chair. He had accepted the truth. Help wasn’t coming. He slid his sidearm out of its holster and slowly raised it until the icy barrel was pressed against his temple. He had never been a religious man, not many of his generation were, but the taboo of what he was about to do still made him hesitate. Silently, he wrapped his index finger around the curved trigger and tried to find the will within himself to squeeze it.  
Suddenly the lights of the ship turned on, nearly blinding Hank. As he blinked in confusion, his dashboard lit up, revealing the ship’s fuel levels. He started in disbelief and joy. There was still enough fuel to get home, if only barely. Shaking, he set the ship on a course for home. It was unlikely that there was much left, but there might be some survivors who the enemy hadn’t noticed. He set the ship to autopilot and sank back into his chair, trying to fight the cold sensation of doubt creeping up on him. This was too good to be true. The ship shouldn’t have been able to support life for much longer, let alone regain power. He pushed those thoughts aside. Fate had just given him a horse and it would be very impolite to look it in the mouth. Or something like that. Those phrases were still around, despite no one in the United States having seen a horse for the last few centuries.  
He was snapped out of introspection by the flashing alert lights above him. The ship’s radar lit up with hundreds of green dots, all closing in on Hank’s ship. He pulled up the view screen. It was just as he feared. Gold plated cylinders, their eyestalks staring at him through the darkness of space, encircling the Anzio. They emerged from a gold plated saucer, its own eyestalks pointed towards the Anzio as well, an electronic voice emerging from it. “Attention human. You are unworthy. Your race is unworthy. You will be exterminated!” A thousand soulless metal voices joined in a chorus of “Exterminate! Exterminate!”. Hank braced for the incoming blasts. At least he would die fighting. Suddenly, a blast of red energy pierced the side of the saucer, flames shooting from the entry and exit holes. The disk exploded as thousands of red blasts lit up the black expanse, impaling and disintegrating the enemy force. The American Defense Force appeared on the screen, arrayed in red white and blue. A voice crackled over the radio, “Captain Williams, this is the USS John Adams. Are you with us?” An overjoyed Hank yelled back, “Yes! Yes, I’m with you!” Directions appeared on his ship’s autopilot screen. The ship turned and joined the fleet. It must have been joined by the remains of the expeditionary force, as there were more ships then he could count. They must have been survivors, although Hank had no idea how they had lived. These thoughts were forgotten as the blue sphere of New D.C appeared before him, shining as a beacon of liberty to the universe. No smoke or flames arose from it, no calls for help or screams of agony came from the radio. Just a sound Hank had never thought he would hear again. Maria’s voice reached out to him from the ship’s radio, as the world around him seemed to shine, “Hank can you hear me? Can you hear me Captain?”  
“It’s no use Clara. He can’t hear anyone anymore.” The girl knelt next to the corpse, fighting back tears. Blood poured from the exit wound in Hank’s temple, pooling on the floor below his drooping head. His lifeless body was slumped in the Captain’s chair, sagging to the right where his head had been flung by the gun blast. The Doctor put his hand on her shoulder, both for her sake and his own. “You asked what happened to America. Here it is. They were a brave, foolish, self-righteous people. They thought they could never be defeated. That they were the defenders of freedom, motherhood and apple pie. They weren’t always wrong about that either.” He gave a small laugh, before turning serious again, “But on this day, they were right at the wrong time. They underestimated the Dalek’s capability and were wiped out for their troubles. The only places that survived were a few independent colonies, like New New York. The rest were burned to dust, either by the Daleks or their own leaders looking to spare their people from the Dalek camps. That man there was the last American.” Clara wiped her eyes and got up, looking at the Doctor with a mix of rage and sorrow. “What was the point then? Did they all die for nothing? Did Danny…” Her voice trailed off, her hands reaching for her necklace. The Doctor let out a sigh and smiled, “No one lives or dies for nothing. The Americans were wiped out, but they bought the rest of the galaxy enough time to contact the Time Lords. The Daleks were repelled soon after.” He gestured to the figure in the chair, “That man didn’t die for nothing. And neither did Danny”. Clara sighed and buried her head in his chest. “Let’s go home”. As they turned back towards the TARDIS, the Doctor cast a glance back towards the figure in the chair. “You and your people died as you lived. Fighting where you didn’t belong for a cause no one else would take up. Wherever you are now, I hope it was worth it.” The figure in the chair continued to stare forward, a calm expression across his face.


End file.
